The Dance
by Roguie
Summary: Months after Max is gone, Logan strives to find some measure of closure.


  
A/N: Weeeeelll... this was actually written before I watched AJBAC, don't know why... but hey. Either way, spoilers for AJBAC.. ((who could possibly be spoiled anymore??)) .. in a sick should have been working sort of way. Don't ask me why Bling is there, I'm just gonna assume that in my own personal little DA world Logan has told Bling that Max is dead. I'm also going to assume that although he may not know the details of her death, Bling knows that she won't be found. It's just meant as a short little scene.. Lord knows what would happen if I ever denied my muse when she whispers words into my head... at work.. while I'm supposed to be getting sales... on a zero day.. right.. back to the note.   
  
Disclaimer: They're not mine, I just like to borrow them sometimes and mutate their inner voices. What can I say? It's fun.  
  
  
  
The Dance  
  
By: Danae Bowen  
  
  
Bling followed Logan Cale to the car. Today was a personal, very personal, day for Logan, and although Bling felt as though he were intruding tagging along, Logan's invite meant a great deal.  
  
Logan had been remote since the day Max died, making his way along in the world, but never actually living. His training continued uninterupted, except instead of the determination to walk Logan used to display, Bling was faced with mere casual acceptance of living in the chair.  
  
Bling helped Logan into the driver's side of the car before settling himself in next to the subdued man. He watched the scenery go by without much interest as he considered exactly what they were about to do.  
  
Logan, for his part, was determined to get this day over with. He'd thought he'd been half a man when he lost the use of his legs, he was wrong, though. He'd not realized what being half a person truly meant until he'd lost Max.  
  
He couldn't count the number of nights he'd lain awake, listening for any decipherable noise that could have possibly been her, but there was nothing. One night he'd been sure he'd heard the unmistakeable sound of someone picking the lock on his door. He'd spun his chair around so hard, he shattered the only light on in the room, but she'd never appeared. She never would. When he'd finally made it to the door, flinging it open, words of welcome, love and desperation flying to his lips, he was greeted by the dark, empty corridor. Only his imagination. It was always only his imagination.   
  
When it hit six months to the day she'd died in his arms and still everything in his life seemed that much more dull, Logan knew he'd have to do something to close this for him.  
  
It hadn't been easy. A lot of his family's connections had gone underground after the drone fiasco and were unreachable. He, himself, was wearing thin his wallet, Max's demise also taking the spark out of his writing, making finding work not difficult, but a chore. The price of what he wanted to do was rising higher and higher each day. Still, he'd plowed on, brushing off stupid queries of people as they tried to dig too deep into his personal motivations.  
  
Still, today had arrived all too soon. She'd been gone eight months that evening, almost long enough to bring into the world new life. He knew it had to be then if he were to ever be able to get his own life back on track.  
  
They arrived in a meadow, one of the last of its like within the confines of ruined Seattle, and Logan heaved a deep sigh as Bling helped him out of the car. Together, they made their way up a steep incline, until they stopped at the top, looking out over the city.  
  
In the near distance, the lopsided Space Needle could clearly be seen. Logan had promised himself that Max would be close to her thinking place, and no matter how much he had to offload to make it happen, he kept that promise.   
  
"Are you sure about this?" Bling looked at Logan in concern. The apartment was nearly bare these days, Logan's artifacts gone in the blink of an eye. A whole life time.  
  
"Good location."  
  
Bling's brow furrowed as he looked around. "I don't know, man. Isn't it a bit girly for Max?"  
  
Logan smiled, a cold, bitter sight at its best. He'd had two young oak trees planted on that hill, only ten feet between them. One day they would grow strong and high, marking this spot forever. "It's perfect."  
  
As if in unspoken agreement, they both finally turned and faced those trees, glancing down at what was between them.  
  
"You sure you're okay with her not actually being here?"  
  
The simple oak coffin seemed to stare back at them as it rested on its planks.  
  
"It's fine."  
  
They were to have no ceremony, no minister from some overly popularized religion to spew out words that would have brought out the sarcastic side of Max. Logan had loved her sarcasm, she'd made him laugh when he didn't think it possible with one of her off the wall comments. It was so hard for her, and yet she'd made it look so easy.  
  
His expression never changed as he nodded to the two workers standing next to the coffin. They'd been instructed to lower the box and fill in the grave while Logan watched, and although they found it odd, they were paid to work.   
  
Bling watched Logan closely, seeing the other man's cheek twitch slightly as the coffin began lowering slowly into the ground. He frowned as Logan's lips tightened, watching his boss's generally gentle hands form tight fists.   
  
The first shovelful of dirt hit the empty coffin with a resounding thump, a sound that echoed through Logan's mind for long moments. The men worked hard, and soon the grave was nearly full. One last shovelful of dirt remained. One of the workers turned to Logan, holding out his shovel.  
  
"Would you like to finish it off?"  
  
Logan blinked for a moment, the question taking him off guard. Cautiously, he glanced at the shovel, biting down on his lip as he decided. One shovelful of dirt and it would all be over, Max would be behind him forever, and he would have buried her, so to speak.   
  
He nodded, moving forward slowly, aprehension clouding his every motion. The shovel felt extraordinarily heavy in his hands, the wood chilling his fingers. He swallowed heavily, closing his eyes for the briefest of moments before digging the sharp, metal scoop into the last bit of dirt, filling in the final inches of Max's grave.  
  
When it was over, the shovel fell from Logan's seemingly lifeless fingers. The weight of his decision fell upon him at that moment, crushing him with unbearable pressure. He rolled his head down, his eyes filling with tears as the grief, for one final moment, overwhelmed him once more.  
  
When he looked up, his gaze was sad but clear. His blue eyes shone with tears unshed, but the overwhelming dullness was gone. He met Bling's look of concern, and nodded, raising a hand.  
  
Bling moved to his side, gripping Logan's powerful arm with strength, allowing Logan to lean on him as he rose out of his wheelchair to stand at the foot of Max's grave. Both men shared a quiet moment, before Logan found the words he needed to share.  
  
"I used to think that when I got out of that chair, the first thing I'd do would be to share a dance with her." He paused, his jaw twitching as he forced his emotions back under strict control. "I never thought that the first time I got to my feet would be to stand at her grave."  
  
"Hey, man, you know she'd be happy just to know you're on your feet. Doesn't matter where it's at."  
  
"Matters to me."  
  
Ever wise, Bling moved the wheelchair back a few feet, then returned to the car. He'd said his goodbyes to the strange, spunky girl he'd known such a short while. It was Logan's time now.  
  
Logan stood in silence for a few minutes, staring down at the gravestone he'd had especially designed for Max. Grey stone framed by rose marble, set into the ground just at the head of what would be her coffin, if not for her body, then for his memories of whom she had been. He'd had no dates of birth or death inscribed into the stone, there was only her name and a small caption. "Briefly she was loved, forever." Logan felt those few words said enough, and left it at that. What more was there to say?  
  
He took a step closer, opening the front of his jacket to take out a single, white rose. He knelt down, placing the rose atop the mound of dirt, his hand resting there for the briefest of instants.  
  
"I guess we'll never have that dance, Max." He sighed. "Love you. Goodbye."  
  
His legs wobbled as he climbed back to his feet, taking the few steps to the wheelchair, sitting down hard. He didn't look back as he wheeled away with grim determination, stopping only when he reached the car. Without protest he allowed Bling to take the driver's seat, resting heavily in the passenger side.   
  
"You okay?"  
  
Yes, he felt better now that it was over, but the sense of finality was reeling. He was on the right road, but it would take some time before Logan would be "okay".  
  
"It's all good." He glanced out the window, watching as the hill Max was buried upon disappeared into the distance. He actually smiled as the sun began to set, casting its long shadows against the Seattle horizon.  
  
True, they would never dance, but with the night came dreams. In Logan's dreams, Max was always waiting.  
  
End. 


End file.
